


Perpetual Infinity

by Persiflage



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s02e11 Perpetual Infinity, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Fingerfucking, First Kiss, First Time, Food, Give Michael all the TLC, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Torture, POV Character of Color, The Continuing Reformation of Emperor Georgiou
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-12-26 16:58:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18286442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: Canon Divergence - instead of Spock coming to play chess with Michael, Georgiou arrives with food and proper emotional support.





	Perpetual Infinity

**Author's Note:**

> Now that the former Emperor Georgiou has been outed as President of the We Stan Michael Burnham Club, I'm not even going to apologise for shipping these two.
> 
> I found Michael's final scene with Spock less than satisfying, so I wrote a different version of my own. Enjoy!

Michael's lying on her side on her bed, watching one of her mom's logs when she hears the door opening behind her. She shuts down the recording instantly before looking over her shoulder to see Georgiou has entered the room. She’s carrying a tray of food, but Michael turns her face away again, not wanting to talk to anyone right now.

“Leland received 54% of the sphere data,” Georgiou says. “Significant, but as Pike has stated we will continue the fight.”

“My mom was right,” Michael answers, not moving. “What fight are we supposed to be continuing, Georgiou? Everything we try fails. Now, with no suit, no Time crystal, it’ll always be one step ahead of us.” She blinks as tears fall down her face.

She hears Georgiou’s booted steps move across the room and the click of the tray being set down, then moments later feels her bed dip as the Terran sits on the side of it.

“I think Dr Burnham was incorrect about one thing,” she says. “ _Now_ , more than anything, is what matters.” 

Michael feels Georgiou’s hand clasp her upper arm and squeeze, and she shifts so she can look up at the other woman through a haze of tears. She sees compassion in Georgiou’s eyes, and something else she cannot parse.

“Come here, Michael,” the Terran says, and reaches down to pull Michael up, wrapping her tightly in her arms.

Michael’s startled, but grateful, and her tears begin to come faster as she puts her arms around Georgiou.

“I’m sorry that we couldn’t save your mother after all.”

Michael can’t speak, she feels like she’s going to choke on her tears, like she choked on the atmosphere of Essof IV. That thought makes her cry even harder, and she feels Philippa rubbing her back soothingly, and murmuring things in her ear, such as “It’s okay to cry” and “Let it all out”, and she can’t help obeying, sobbing desperately on the other woman’s shoulder.

Eventually she runs out of tears and she just rests in Philippa’s arms, drained and exhausted.

“You should eat, then get some rest,” the Terran tells her.

“I just spent five hours unconscious,” she protests, more for form’s sake than anything else.

“After you died,” Philippa says, practically snarling the words and Michael shifts, pulling back to look at the other woman’s face. 

“You –” she begins, but the Terran interrupts her.

“Yes, I care about you,” she says, “how is this a surprise? Haven’t you been paying any attention, Michael?”

“I’m sorry,” she says contritely. “I just – I’m sorry.” 

Philippa shakes her head, then pulls away carefully. “You should eat and get some rest,” she repeats. She gets up and fetches the tray, and Michael accepts it, then notes in surprise that it contains an array of her favourite comfort foods.

“How?” she asks, stupidly.

“I checked the mess hall replicator logs and brought the things you have eaten most often,” Georgiou says, as if that’s a really obvious thing to do. Which logically, she supposes it is – she’s just a bit surprised that the Terran would do it, even if she does care about Michael.

“I – Thank you,” she manages.

Georgiou nods and before she can make a move to leave, Michael catches hold of her wrist and says, “You talked with my mom for a while before Stamets and I arrived.”

Something softens in the other woman’s expression, making her look a little more like Michael’s Philippa. “I did,” she agrees, and sits on the end of Michael’s bed while she gets started on the food. She hadn’t believed she was hungry, but once she starts eating, she realises she’s ravenous.

“We talked mostly about you,” Georgiou says. “Your mother is an impressive woman – fiercely smart and capable, strong-minded too. You’re a lot like her.” A beat. “I liked her a lot, even if she makes ridiculous assertions.”

“Ridiculous assertions?” Michael repeats around a mouthful of cheese and spinach omelette.

“She told me that in the future I sacrifice myself to save you.”

Michael swallows and stares at her. “That doesn’t sound very likely,” she says after a moment.

“So I told her. I’m Terran. We don’t do self-sacrifice. And yet.”

“And yet what?” Michael asks, feeling confused.

“When your mother said that I would be surprised what I’d do for the people I love, I couldn’t argue the point.”

“You couldn’t?”

Philippa shakes her head. “I do love you.”

Michael stares some more, then says, “Like a mother. I’m your daughter’s counterpart in this Universe.”

“No.”

“No what?”

“Not like a daughter. The feelings I have for _you_ are definitely not maternal.”

Michael doesn’t know what to say to that, so she says nothing. She concentrates on eating, but she’s aware of Philippa beside her, the coiled strength of the Terran who fought a Control-infected Leland and held her own, the fiercely proud Emperor with no Empire to rule over – the woman who looks like the woman Michael loved, but couldn’t save. 

She’s a little surprised that Philippa doesn’t break the silence, and even more surprised that it doesn’t feel uncomfortable. 

Finally, she can’t eat another thing, and Philippa takes the tray from her and sets it back on the table. “You still need to get some sleep.” She encourages Michael to lie back down, then pulls off her boots and sets them just beneath the edge of the bed.

“You don’t want to talk?” Michael asks.

“Talking can wait. You need to rest and finish healing.”

“Would you –?” Michael has to swallow before she can get her words out. “Would you mind staying with me, please?”

Philippa stares at her for a long moment, then sheds her leather coat, tossing it over Tilly’s bed, before pulling off her gloves and her boots. “Move over, then.” Her tone is grumpy, but Michael’s not fooled.

“Thank you,” she says, and moves to the edge of the bed. Philippa lies down beside her, both of them on their sides, then slips her arms around Michael’s torso, tugging her backwards until her back is against Philippa’s chest.

“Go to sleep.” 

Michael closes her eyes, although she’s not convinced she’ll sleep, but at least she’ll be resting, and at least she won’t be alone again.

MB-PG-MB-PG-MB

She’s surprised, when she wakes up, to realise that she has in fact been asleep. She’s even more surprised to discover that Philippa is still at her back, her arms resting over Michael’s. The Terran even has a leg draped over Michael’s left thigh, as if she’s determined to hang onto her by any means possible.

“How do you feel?”

“Not all that great, if I’m honest,” Michael says. She has a headache from all the crying, and although she’s slept, she still feels exhausted. She shifts in Philippa’s arms, and the other woman loosens her grip, but doesn’t release Michael altogether.

“Thank you for staying with me,” she say a little gruffly as she turns to face the Terran. 

“I said I would,” Philippa says, also gruffly. Then she huffs, as if exasperated, before clasping Michael’s face between her hands and planting her mouth on Michael’s. She doesn’t hesitate to kiss her back and she’s not even aware that the other woman has got her uniform jacket unzipped until the Terran tweaks her right nipple through the tank she’s wearing underneath the jacket. A bolt of pure lust shoots down her spine and into her sex, and she moans into the other woman’s mouth.

Philippa kisses her chin, then along her jaw before nipping at her earlobe. “I want you,” she whispers against Michael’s ear, her hot breath making Michael shudder.

“Yes,” Michael gasps out. “Yes please.”

Philippa shoves her tank up and insinuates her hand underneath Michael’s bra to squeeze and fondle her breast, repeatedly tweaking her nipple, and before Michael can protest or ask for something different, another tweak sets off her orgasm, and she moans in pleasure. 

She comes back to herself to find Philippa fighting to get her uniform pants off while she’s still kissing Michael. 

“Hang on,” she begs against the Terran’s mouth. “Give me a second.” She shoves a bit at her shoulder, and Philippa eases away a little, enough for Michael to start pushing her pants and her rather embarrassingly soaked panties down. To her relief, Philippa relents and gets Michael’s uniform, tank and bra off, then she moves her body over Michael’s, pinning her to the bed, and kissing her fiercely while pushing her hand between Michael’s thighs. She moans as two fingers skim over the opening to her sex before they push inside her. She hears Philippa moan _So wet_ into her mouth, and then she gets lost in a haze of pleasure as a second orgasm builds and builds in her belly and cunt.

Philippa gives her fingers a sharp twist, pressing them against Michael’s g-spot and she yanks her mouth away to cry out as her orgasm spikes through her body, making her climax in a rush of wetness.

“My darling girl,” Philippa murmurs, and kisses her more softly on the mouth, then down her throat as she continues to work her fingers in and out of Michael.

She feels pleasure spiralling through her body, moving outwards from her sex, and becomes aware of the scrape and scratch of the fabric of Philippa’s pants and shirt against her naked skin. Her nipples tighten and her inner muscles follow suit a moment later.

“Philippa,” she groans as the Terran begins rocking her sex against Michael’s thigh. “Please.”

“Patience,” Philippa admonishes. “Just a little longer.”

Michael moans as the other woman begins plundering her mouth again, and she can feel everything in her body tightening towards a third climax. She clutches Philippa’s body to her own, and kisses back aggressively, and then she screams as a third, more powerful orgasm crashes through her body. She’s vaguely aware that the Terran has cried out too, but she’s in no condition to make enquiries about this. Her sex is soaking wet and twitching, all of her muscles seem to have been replaced with uncooked noodles, and her head is as fuzzy as when she woke up in Sickbay after Essof IV.

“Fuck,” she gasps weakly.

“Yes,” Philippa replies, her voice husky. “We did.”

That makes Michael chuckle feebly. “You’re a piece of work, Philippa Georgiou,” she tells her lover. 

Philippa lifts her head and smirks down at her. “And you’re delicious when you’re in the throes of an orgasm.”

Michael feels herself blushing at these words, and is glad that her darker skin hides her blushes. “I need a shower,” she says.

“Yes,” Philippa agrees. “And next time we do this, we’ll do it in my quarters – I’ve a bigger bed and an ensuite bathroom.”

“Next time?” Michael says, surprised.

“You surely didn’t think this was a one-off?” the Terran asks, disbelievingly.

“I – I didn’t want to make assumptions.”

“Michael Burnham, in case it’s escaped your notice, I am very much in love with you, and I definitely do want to fuck you again. And often.”

Michael swallows, feeling a lump of emotion in her throat, and tears pricking at her eyes. 

“You really are ridiculous,” Philippa says. “Although I suppose it’s not your fault. Growing up on Vulcan must have given you a poor view of yourself, and aside from my counterpart, you don’t seem to have had much in the way of emotional support. Every single person aboard this ship seems more interested in using you than in being here for you. I have no idea why you stay. Your loyalty is misplaced.”

“I think you and I will never agree on Starfleet,” Michael says.

The Terran snorts. “Not while you continue to defend it at every turn, no.” She shakes her head. “Haven’t you noticed that not one single person has come to see how you’re doing? Haven’t you asked why _I_ am the one who’s bringing you food and checking in with you?” Without waiting for an answer, she continues, “They’re ashamed. They’re ashamed that they tortured and killed you for nothing.”

“Finding out my mom’s alive isn’t nothing,” Michael says angrily.

“No, it’s not,” she agrees, her expression softening. “But was it worth choking to death to find that out?” Then she shakes her head. “I don’t want to argue about this. Let’s shower and then eat. You’re going to need all your energy.”

Michael gives her a sideways look. “Should I ask why?”

Philippa rolls her eyes. “Bigger bed, remember?”

“You mean you want to have more sex with me today?”

“Of course I want to have more sex with you today.” She hauls Michael up from the bed, then clasps her face and stares at her very intently. “I, Philippa Georgiou Augustus Iaponius Centarius, am in love with you. Ridiculously so given how very good you are and how good I am not. And because I am in love with you and find you ridiculously attractive, sexually, I intend to have more sex with you. Lots and lots more.” She leans in and aggressively kisses Michael for more than a minute, then releases her mouth and asks, “Got it?”

“Got it,” Michael agrees, rather shakily.

“Good. Now put a robe on so you can leave this room without starting a riot, and let’s shower before we go to my quarters.”

“Yes ma’am,” Michael replies sarcastically, then feels her sex clench at the heated look Philippa gives her – she suspects that having this version of Philippa as her lover is going to be exhausting but satisfying. She finds she doesn’t entirely mind the prospect. 

 

_*** Transmission Ends ***_


End file.
